Kings and Dolls
by trampslikeus
Summary: Spot Conlon's the king of Brooklyn, which means he can have whatever he wants, right? Velvet isn't convinced. But one night in Brooklyn has been known to change a lot of things.. Rating because i can't be trusted with a keyboard.
1. The Manhattan Poker Table

The boys huddled around the small table were quiet and intense. They're eyes were drawn low on the two boys at opposite ends, the only boys with cards still in their hands. Next to one of the boys was the third person with cards left; she was of the same age and her eyes stared intensely at the cards fanned in her hand. The pot between them had grown in the past three hours, and as numerous boys lost their cash or dropped out in fear of losing the rest, the three final newsies were left to duke it out for the win.

One was of a Manhattan borough and was the biggest gambler around, save for the girl to his left; his hair was black and thick under his hat and a cigar hung limply from the corner of his mouth. The other two were of Brooklyn, one being the ever-so-feared leader of the notorious borough, and the other being who was at first presumed as his girl for the way his hands played lost melodies upon her upper thigh and his eyes raked up and down her devilish form. His eyes were the most piercing blue you had ever seen, and his skin was Irish cream and all long, toned muscle. He had a keen smirk of a smile that he had perfected to be terrifying and extremely sexy. The girl, who in reality was not his girl but the lone girl newsie their side of Harlem, was as sly as she was gorgeous. Her brown hair fell wavy and tousled past her shoulders; she was all hips and had clear blue eyes and lily white skin. It was all the boy sitting behind her could do not to reach out and wind his hands around her hips and kiss her neck fondly.

At the other corner of the room, two boys who had put in their week's salary before losing to the three still around the poker table had taken a seat on the worn, upholstered couch. The younger of the two sat awkwardly on the right, a beer delicately palmed in his hands. The older sat too his left, watching the game with mock interest.

"I can't believe I lost." The younger boy whined. His face sagged in sadness as he drew another sip of his drink.

"Look, your fresh meat! Just got here a week ago! You couldn't have expected to beat Brooklyn when you're fresh off the streets, kid." The older responded, his eyes never leaving the game. The younger boy lifted his eyes in the same direction.

"Which ones Brooklyn?" the younger boy asked timidly. The older sighed heavily and turned to face the younger boy.

"The blue eyes, kid. His named Spot, and don't forget it. Unless you wanna be back on the streets faster then you can say 'On the grounds of Brooklyn.'" The younger boy nodded and took another sip of his beer.

"The dark hair is Race." The younger boys words came as a half question half statement.

"Now you got it." The older boy shrugged his arm over the younger boy's shoulders and pointed to the Italian. "He's Manhattan. That's us, too. So you better remember. And the other is Velvet."

"The girl?"

"Yes the girl, dumb ass. What, she look like a guy to you?" The younger shrugged his shoulders and nursed his beer a bit more. "Your gunna get drunk real quick if you keep that up." The older said, pulling the beer from the boy's hands and putting it down by his feet.

"Why do they call her Velvet?"

"Well, supposedly its cause her voice is like velvet, beautiful and soft, but a lot of the boys say its cause red velvet is Spot's favorite." They both looked towards the table again, where Spot's hand continued to lightly draw up and down her thigh. He leaned in close to her, his eyes never leaving his cards, and parted his lips slightly, placing them on her open collar bone. He kissed there gently and pulled his hand from her thigh around her shoulders, pushing more coins into the pot with the other.

Her lips pulled tighter over her teeth as Spot continued to lay feather kisses along her collar bone. Race paid them no attention and looked over his cards thoroughly. Velvet's fingers twitched slightly on her own cards as Spot's arm moved slowly down her arms to her waist.

"Pair." Race said unhappily as he threw his cards face down on the table, the bluff he had been keeping up the whole game now evident. Spot smiled his cocky smirk again.

"Straight." He flipped his cards over with his free hand, his eyes meeting Race's.

"Flush." Velvet said bluntly, pushing herself up from the table abruptly. Spot was forced back slightly by her quick haste, and looked up at her in surprise before rising to join her, his smirk returning in seconds.

"Congrats baby." Spot whispered sultrily in her ear as she straightened up from scooping her earnings off the table, his hand winding back around her hips and his nose brushing against her cheek.

"I'm not your baby." She snapped back in the same hushed tone, teeth gritted together, as she shoved Spot slightly in attempt to remove his hand from her waist. His smirk disappeared immediately and was replaced by a stern grimace.

"Who the hell says you aren't?" He snapped angrily, tightening his grip on her hips. She shoved him away harder this time and quickly crossed the floor of the now crowded lodging home, approaching the couch where the two boys still sat talking. She slid onto the older boys lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Blink." She cooed and smiled at the surprised boy, who in response wrapped one and around her waist and laid the other on her thigh.

"Velvet." He replied huskily, smiling slightly up at her. The younger boy stared at the two in aw.

"And who's your friend?" She asked, turning to look at the younger boy beside them, who quickly snapped his mouth shut.

"He's fresh meat." Blink responded, never letting his eyes leave her face. "They call him Otter."

"Otter." She repeated and slid one hand to rest on the young boy's thigh. She turned back to Blink and smiled coyly at him. His cheeks flushed brightly as he met her gaze, giving her a nervous smile of his own.

"You're so cute when your nervous, Blink." She cooed sweetly. She swiftly moved both hands to his chest and leaned forward slightly, her lips parting delicately. She placed them gently on his jaw, smiling against his soft, freshly shaven skin. Blink's eyes snapped shut and he held back a moan. He opened his eyes as she kissed slightly closer to his lips, and gasped lightly at the sight of Spot standing over them, glowering down at the pair.

"Get up." He growled angrily and gripped Velvet's arm tightly. She scowled up at him, but before she could snap back he yanked her to her feet and pulled her towards the door. He took one look back at the stunned Blink and Otter before slamming the door behind him and stomping out into the cold night.

* * *

Not really sure where I'm going with this...I'll continue if people like it. Just something that jumped into my head one night.

Review. All opinions are welcomed and taken into consideration.


	2. Scotch and the Brooklyn King

"What the hell was that about?" He snapped madly as he hit the street outside and caught up to Velvet, who had already begun stomping back towards Brooklyn.

"What the hell was what about?" She snarled through her teeth.

"What the hell was you throwing yourself all over Blink and that fresh meat about?" He yelled in response.

"What the hell was you crawling all over me like I'm your little trinket all about?" She stopped and faced him as she yelled. They stared each other down for a few moments before she resumed walking, Spot quick behind her. They continued the rest of the walk back to Brooklyn in silence.

Spot stopped when they reached the Brooklyn lodging house and watched Velvet disappear inside, not even glancing his way as she did. He lit a cigarette once the door closed behind her, letting the match fall onto the front steps. Taking a long drag, he looked to the top left window. From the street he could see the silhouette of Velvet through the light curtains in their room. He sighed, crushing out his cigarette, and ventured inside.

It was quiet inside. The rest of the Brooklyn borough was still in Manhattan, re-counting their loss from the poker game. He stopped in the kitchen before heading up the stairs, pouring two glasses of scotch and filling a basin with water. He grabbed a wash rag from the drawer by the stove and slung it around his neck, balancing the glasses and bowl between his two hands. The floor boards creaked on the steps, creating an eerie air about the vacant lodging home. Even the caretaker, Pilot, wasn't anywhere to be found. If he where, Spot would never have been able to make it up the stairs with the glasses of scotch.

The door to the room he shared with Velvet was half closed, and he was able to slip inside without making a sound. Velvet stood before the window running a brush through her long hair. He clanked the basin loudly on the dresser next to the door to get her attention, but she didn't turn to face him. He watched as she brushed her hair into a messy bun on top of her head and placed the brush back down on the table beside the window. He walked forward, not minding to keep his forward motion a secret from her, one glass of scotch in each hand. He leaned to the right of her and placed one glass beside the brush she had laid down, intentionally brushing his arm against hers as he straightened back up. She didn't seem to notice him at all. He stood directly behind her as she pushed her suspenders off her shoulders and shrugged out of her button up shirt, leaving her clad in only her camisole and pants. Spot took a long glug of his drink before moving forward again, now standing only inches from her back. He breathed heavily on her exposed neck, drawing goose bumps on her pale skin. He smirked and let out a low chuckle, leaning down to place his forehead on the base of her neck.

At this, she moved away. Stepping forward abruptly, she left Spot standing alone in the middle of the room. He didn't move as she approached the table, taking the glass of scotch he had placed and drawing a long sip herself. She slammed it back down when she was done, her back still to the motionless Spot. They waited in silence a moment before she spoke. "I'm not your toy." Her words were cold and slightly sorrowful. Her back stayed to Spot, who still showed no sign of moving. "I'm not your doll, I'm not your play thing, and I'm _not _your girl." She turned at the last bit and stared straight into the Brooklyn Leader' eyes, something many newises would be too afraid to do. Spot met her gaze, neither of them blinking for a long while before he lifted his glass to his lips and gulped down another fourth of his drink.

She turned her back to him again, gripping her glass in her fist tightly. Spot finally moved, coming up behind her and wrapping an arm around her waist, laying his nose in the crook of her neck. She wiggled slightly in a weak attempt to move him away, but he didn't budge.

"Velvet…" he moaned into her neck, his words sounding like a half plea on his part.

"Spot." She said bluntly through gritted teeth, a warning to let her go.

"Red Velvet." He said more huskily, trailing feather light kisses up her neck.

"Red Velvet." She repeated in a hushed, angered tone before pushing Spot away and retreating to the other side of the room with her scotch.

"What the hell is up with you?" Spot yelled, turning to face where she now stood near the bathroom door.

"What the hells wrong with me?" She yelled in retort. "What the hells up with you?" Spot stayed quiet for a long second, sloshing the ice around in his half empty glass.

"Look, they don't call you Velvet for nothing." He responded smartly.

"Oh yeah, cause Red Velvet is Spot's favorite." She mocked. "What, do you think I'm your little prize? Is that the only reason I'm here?" Her voice rose to an angry yell. Spot sighed, and looked down at his drink.

"Look, I'm the leader of Brooklyn, and you're the only girl newsie, and more then just an attractive dame. We all know that." He looked up to meet her eyes again. "I've got a reputation to protect. How's it gonna look for Brooklyn if I can't get you? If I can't touch you, but Blink can have you? If.."

"You can't just have me!" She cut him off, her eyes looking hurt and angered.

"But Blink can." Spot's response was blunt and crude, hurt and broken pride filling the words.

"No, Blink can't." Her retort was matter-of-fact, and she gulped down long glug of her drink to steady her beating heart. She winced slightly when she finished, holding her forehead in her free hand.

"You're gonna give yourself a headache drinking like that, you always do." Spot stated walking to the dresser and retrieving the basin of water he had brought up. "Lay down." He dipped the wash rag in the water as Velvet sat on the bottom bunk.

"Why'd you bring it to me then?" She asked accusingly, but without the heart to start a fight. Spot chuckled slightly.

"Maybe I wanted you to get a little drunk." He said sultrily as he placed the wet rag on her forehead. She rolled her eyes at him and lay down on the bed, holding the rag in place. Spot slid off his shirt and pants, leaving him in just his long johns. He pulled the blanket down on the bunk where she lay and slid in next to her.

"What are you doing?" She asked a bit stunned as he scooted her over to make room for himself.

"It's not like I haven't shared a bed with you before." Spot responded smartly, "Just cause you're pissed at me doesn't mean I loose my bed privileges." She sighed in response, pushing Spot's hand away as he wounded it over her side, snuggling up to her. "Hey, snuggling is part of the deal." He informed her. "You let me sleep as I please, or you get to sleep with the horn dogs in the bunk room." He reminded her of the deal they had made when she first came to the lodging house. She rolled her eyes again and settled into the mattress, Spots arms wrapping around her waist and his chest pressing into her back.


	3. Sleeping Habbits

I know it's been AGES since I last updated, and I'm soooo sorry! I've just been so caught up lately...lots of work to do, and my writing has taken a toll.

This chapter is supersuper short, so I hope to post another, longer chapter here in the next few days.

Enjoy!

* * *

They both lay in silence for the next hour, listening to the noise of the rest of the boys coming home. Spot's arm never left its place draped around her waist, his fingers occasionally pushing softly into her stomach, absent mindedly clinging to the thin fabric of her shirt. His chest heaved slow and steady, pushing against her back with each intake of breath. They had slept like this for what seemed like ages now, Velvet curled into a tight ball with Spot pushing up behind her. She never turned, not even in her sleep, to face him. Maybe it was her fear of what he would do if she curled into his chest, what ideas he would get. Maybe it was her fear of what she would do; what ideas she would get.

When the rest of the house was silent, Velvet attempted to slip into sleep, but it escaped her. Growing tired of her restless mind, she pushed the blankets off and slipped off the bed, expecting Spot to be asleep and not notice her absence. She placed the now dry rag back into the basin of water and began to get dressed.

"Where do you think your going?" Spot rolled over to look at her where she stood at the edge of the bed. Velvet froze where she stood, thinking of what to say.

"I thought you were asleep." She responded, placing her hands on her hips. "I'm going out." She bent down and picked up her shirt, sliding it on.

"Why?"

"Do I need a reason?" She snapped back.

"You do if you want me to let you go." He placed his hands behind his head, stretching back, and smirking at her.

"I can't sleep." She stated as she slid on her suspenders.

"Well I'm coming with you." He slid off the bed and pulled his pants and shirt on as well.

"Why?" She half wined as she tied on her shoes.

"I can't sleep." Spot smirked down at her, already fully dressed.


	4. Cigarette Smoke and a Suit Jacket

Okay, so this is a bit longer than my last chapter..but still not as long as I would like my chapters to be. I promise when I get mroe time I'll make them longer..but just bare with me for now!

* * *

After climbing out the window and down the fire escape, the pair walked down the silent streets of Brooklyn. The night was dark and chilly, the only light coming from the occasional lit window and the few gas lamps along the street side. Velvet had slid on a jacket before leaving, anticipating the frigid night air, but she still found herself shaking. Spot, on the other hand, was clad in his regular clothing with the addition of a light jacket, and seemed to be holding up very well.

They walked in silence for a while, their feet pounding on the cobblestone ground the only sound filling the deserted Brooklyn streets. Velvet pulled a cigarette from her back pocket and lit it, letting the match fall to the ground when she was done. Spot watched from the corner of his eye as she inhaled slowly and let the smoke fall from her lips into the night air. He pulled the pocket watch he often carried from his pants pocket and saw that it was just past eleven. "It's almost midnight." He said as he slipped the watch away.

"Whoop-de-doo." Velvet said in mock excitement. She drew another slow drag and let the smoke back out with a deep sigh.

"Well," Spot said as he reached out and pulled the cigarette from between her lips. He moved swiftly in front of Velvet, his hands clasped behind his back, and turned to walk backwards so he faced her. "Medda's show starts at midnight." He took a short drag and puffed the smoke out into her face.

"and I would love to go watch Medda parade around on stage while men drool at her from their seats." Velvet said sarcastically. She swatted the smoke out of her eyes and looked expectantly at Spot, hand outstretched for her cigarette.

"Come on," Spot said, slightly annoyed by her sarcasm. Though, not enough to make him too annoyed. He ignored her outstretched hand and took another puff. "Medda's a friend." He looked at her with his sexy smirk. Velvet huffed, hating his notorious grin, and shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. Spot turned around to face forward again and slid into step beside her. "Besides," he continued "you know they'll be drooling just as much over you." He smiled inwardly, knowing her had her hook, line, and sinker.

Velvet smiled cunningly. "I have no doubt about that." She said self confidently, a devilish smile painted on her face.

It was almost time for the show when they arrived at Medda's, slipping in through the back door. It was usually off limits, but many newsies who knew Medda well where know to sneak in that way, hoping to get a moment with the Meadow Lark before she went on stage. Velvet sighed from the pleasurable warmth of the backstage area, shrugging out of her jacket and hanging it on a hook by the door.

"Medda?" Spot called out, hanging his jacket beside Velvet's.

"Hello?" a heavily accented voice called from the stairs to their left. Moments later the lovely Medda Larkson appeared from behind a thick curtain at the top. She smiled when she saw them. "Spot…" She trailed off as she quickly danced down the stairs, her feet pattering softly down the plush velvet lining them. "and Velvet!" she exclaimed happily when she reached the bottom, pulling Spot into a large hug, and Velvet after him. "What great honor do I owe you two for gracing me with your presence?" Her thick, sweet accent was pleasant and sultry.

"We wanted to come and see the beautiful Swiss Meadow Lark." Spot said flirtingly, reaching out to grasp Medda's hand and kiss it. She laughed softly.

"Oh, so you came to see my late night show. I would expect as much from you, Spot." She turned to Velvet, reaching out and taking the younger girls hands. "But you, my dear? What did he bribe you with to get you here?" Her words were charming and genuine.

"Ah, you know I love you Medda." Velvet smiled sweetly back, bearing her teeth. She wasn't lying, she did love Medda. But no girls ever came to the late night show, for good reason. Young men came to gaze at the Swiss beauty and get drunk, not the best place for a lady in the middle of the night.

"Well," Medda said, motioning for Velvet to spin around for her. Velvet did so slowly, with her arms spread wide. Spot couldn't help but watch as she did, his eyes scaling her body. "If your coming to my show, and with such a strapping young lad," her voice held only a bit of sarcasm there, "then we must get you into something more suiting for the Vaudeville stage!"

"Oh, Medda, no. I'm fine in these clothes!" She whined with a smile, humoring Medda but not in the mood to get dolled up. "And Spot doesn't have a jacket. We'll just stand in the back."

"I got a jacket." Spot said matter-of-factly, reaching to a peg behind the closet door and retrieving an old suit jacket. He shrugged it on his shoulders and did a full turn, showing off its fit.

"See, now come on Velvet, don't complain. You'll look gorgeous!" Medda exclaimed happily as she led her up the plush stairs. Velvet looked to Spot in a silent plea for help, but he only smirked and waved her on her way, pleased with the idea of her discomfort. Velvet looked at him angrily and huffed after Medda up the tall stairs.

* * *

Now I would love to ask the advice of whoever is reading this little story of mine..I have a slight idea of what I want to happen next, but I'm not one hundred percent sure. SO..

First, does anyone have any suggestions of what color Velvet's dress should be? on what should Spot's favorite color on her be? If so, I'd love to hear it!

Second, if anyone has any ideas about what should occur at or after Medda's performance, I would love to hear them too! Like I said, I have a few ideas running around, but I'd love to hear what you all want/think!

Last but not least, I want to know if I should keep Spot as his oover-egotistical high-and-might self, or if i should show his soft side? We all know he has one, somewhere, and I promise you'll see it somewhere in this story..I'm just not sure how soon I should start revealing his inner-feelings and this careing side of his. If anyone has an opinion, objection, strong feeling, desire, or otherwise, please leave a reviw and let me know! I love feed back, it keeps me going.


	5. Blood Red Dress

again, reallyreally short. I apologise! But Ill have anoher chapter up very soon.

* * *

The upstairs of Medda's Vaudeville Stage was dimly lit and covered in thick curtains. Velvet followed Medda closely as they traveled down the shadowy hallway, stopping at a room at the very end. The doorway was covered by a pink curtain, hung like a veil where a door should be. Velvet recognized the room as Medda's "green room" where she prepared for her shows. The room was spacious, the décor including a lounging couch in white plush fabric, a large bed (un-made), and a long closet filled with frilly dresses and petticoats, the type of clothing that was almost foreign to Velvet. Medda motioned for her to sit on the couch (which first required the removing of multiple, tasseled, throw-pillows) as she strode to the closet, pulling out multiple dresses with full skirts.

Velvet winced inwardly. The dresses were covered with lace and frills, feathers and glamorous beading. She came and layed a few down on the unkempt bed, and returned to the closet to retrieve more. Velvet, consumed with fear of what she would be forced to try on, approached the dresses for inspection, noticing as she did that they were all drawn in a deep shade of blue.

"Medda?" she asked, running her hand over the soft fabric of one dress that was died a deep midnight color. "Why are they all blue?"

Medda smiled, though Velvet couldnt see it. "Well, I do happen to know that Spot loves his girls in blue." She walked back over to Velvet, laying out even more of the ocean blue gowns, each more glamorous then the last.

"Why do I care what Spot thinks of how I look? I don't have to please that idiot, I'm not one of the Kings little dolls" Velvet said mockingly. She crossed her arms over her chest and took a seat on the edge of the bed, staring at the dresses in the feeble hopes that they would spontaneously catch on fire.

"Well, it cant hurt to where blue anyway, its his favorite on his girls. Whether you are one or not." The last part was an after though, tagged on for Velvet's behalf.

"Too bad he prefers me in red." She snickered quietly, not intending Medda to hear.

"Well, red it is then!" She quickly began pulling new dresses, all masked in a blood red haze. Velvet groaned, realizing that she'd been overheard. She trudged back to the bed, ready to face a sea of crimson.

* * *

"Oh, Velvet, you look beautiful honey." Medda cooed from behind Velvet. She pulled a booby pin from her own hair and used it to finish fastening Velvet's into a pile of beautiful curls on the back of her head. She pulled a few strands loose, letting them fall over the younger girls shoulders and pulling the entire look together. "Perfect!" Medda squealed excitedly. "You can look now."

Velvet turned slowly, taking a long look in the full length mirror. Medda had dressed her in a crimson red gown. The corset she wore was tight and foreign to her. It held her frame up and made breathing labored, though she had to admit that it made her look stunning. The fitted bodice of the dress pulled over her curves in a way she had never seen before, and the blood color matched with her snowy skin made for a striking picture.

The skirt of the dress was long a full, though not as full as some of the other dresses she had tried. The hem just touched the floor and made her look taller then her 5'5'' self. It was a classic dress, the type she had seen many girls wear to Medda's shows, but she had never though it could look so stunning on her.

"How do you like it?" Medda asked excitedly, puffing the skirt out a bit more.

"Well, red IS Spot's favorite color on me." Velvet said whilst admiring the beautiful girl Medda had made her into. "But it's only for the show! I want my clothes back when it's over." She made Medda promise her this before allowing the giddy woman to lead her out of the room and down to the awaiting Spot.

* * *

not my best, but I was working hard to get another chapter up for you guys today. I have a lot to do today, but i just had to crank this out real quick before I started. So please ignore the relitively poor quality of writing!

Other then that, enjoy! Next chapter will hopefully be up by the weekend, and I do plan on making it a bit longer.

Review! ideas and suggestions are welcome.


	6. Witty Banter and a Little Grin

hey you guys.

I know I said I would post soon last time, and then it took me like 3 weeks to get anything posted, and I'm super sorry. But things have been extreamly hard for me lately.

I not going to go into the details of my personal life, but a lot of bad things have been going on lately, and because of it I havent been able to write much.

But, im hoping to fix that now. This chapter is, once again, short. But the next ones a bit longer, promise.

* * *

"Presenting" Medda called proudly from the top of the stairs. "The beautiful Miss. Velvet!" Velvet turned the corner as Medda held out her arms in a "tah-dah" sort of way. Spot, who had been slumped against one of the walls holding a glass of water, bolted upright so suddenly that he nearly spilled his drink down the front of his pants. He stood, gaping at the magnificent girl before him, for what seemed like long hours before finally being able to avert his gaze as she neared the bottom step. He could only pray that her eyes had been on her feet the entire time of her descent.

"Looking a little uncomfortable there, Spot. Everything alright?" She asked with a knowing but nervous smile as she came to his side.

Shit, she'd noticed.

Had she always been able to read him like that? No, that was impossible. He was always sure to keep his face straight and his smirk present, the picture of calm and collected, if not confident and frightening. But it wasn't like he had to hide his emotions around Velvet anyway, there were no emotions there to hide. She was just Velvet, plain and simple. If the boys thought they had something going on between them, he wouldn't stop them. But he knew there was nothing really there, right? She was just Velvet. Stubborn, obnoxious, difficult, clumsy, strong, beautiful, kind, stunning Velvet.

Yes, just Velvet. Plain and Simple.

So why was he feeling so flustered and clammy right now?

Must've been something in the water.

He quickly painted a smirk back on his face and let his eyes roam over her quickly, sizing up her appearance.

"Who knew you could look so pretty in a dress? And a red one at that." he said sarcastically, earning himself a slap in the arm and a smile from the newly re-invented Velvet (a slap that sent lightening bolts through his body, though he'd never admit it).

"Well get a good looks cause you'll never see me in one this fancy again." She retorted smartly.

"A dress or a red dress? Because I sure wouldn't mind seeing you without this on right now." Spot replied smoothly, snaking his arms around her waist. Velvet rolled her eyes and pushed him away, but she couldn't keep a small smile from curling up at the corner of her lips.

"Lets go, Conlon. Don't wanna miss the show, right?" She picked up her skirt and headed for the side entrance to the stage, but Spot caught her arm at the last minute.

"Velvet," He turned her around swiftly to face him. "I really do mean it. You look…great." He finished lamely, grinning a very shy grin. Velvets faced turned the color of her dress."

"Thanks, Spot." Spot's hand lingered on her arm a moment longer before he let go.

The pair emerged from behind the curtain together and quickly trotted to the stairs leading off the stage before anyone could notice them.

"No funny business, Conlon." Velvet said quietly through her teeth as they approached the table Medda had reserved for them. Spot pulled her chair out for her and gestured for her to sit.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He whispered huskily in her ear as he pushed her chair in. His teeth nearly grazed her earlobe before he pulled away, and the chill it sent down Velvet's spine did not go unnoticed. Spot smirked, hoping he could keep his promise.

* * *

not my best, I've been really distant lately. Please review! all opinions welcome and considered.


	7. Black Tattoo

two chapters in one day? I hope it makes up for the last couple of weeks without update...

this took me a while to write, and I'm still not sure I like it completely, but hey. What can you do?

* * *

The late night show was filled with swooning songs and cooing noises from the audience of men. Spot and Velvet's table was near the middle of the audience section, at a two person table draped in white. The waiter, who had his eyes on Velvet the entire time he was taking their order, had brought them their drinks quickly and they had enjoyed the first half of the show in near silence. Velvet kept her eyes on stage, not making eye contact with any of the men who kept looking her way, and Spot did the same, humming to himself during the songs he knew.

At the half way mark of the show Medda dismissed herself, as she always did, to get a drink of water and allow the men to order more drinks. They clapped and cheered as the Meadow Lark slipped behind the back stage curtain and all descended upon the bars for more beers.

"I'll get us more drinks." Velvet picked up their two empty glasses and smiled at Spot, desperate for a chance to stretch her legs. Spot looked at her warily, as if trying to find some hidden intention in her act, but nodded slowly and watched her go. Her hips swayed gently from side to side with each of her steps, and Spot couldn't have looked away even if he wanted to. He sighed, shaking his head slowly.

"I can't turn into some love drunk puppy." He mumbled softly to himself, making it firm and clear that he wasn't having any new feelings for Velvet, none that he could accept anyways.

Velvet set the two glasses on the top of the bar and smiled coyly at the bar tender.

"Can I get two glasses of scotch please?" She said as sweetly as possible, batting her eye lashes at the young man, who straightened his bow tie and puffed out his chest while pouring her drinks.

"Scotch is a strong drink for such a lady." He played, handing her the two now full glasses.

"Well, no one said I have to be a prim lady." She winked at him and he blushed deeply, moving on to another customer. Velvet took the moment to lean against the bar and relax, no longer under the pressure of being right next to Spot. Lately she'd found herself to be very tense around him, always wondering what he was thinking and how she looked. "I'm not turning into some Spot loving bimbo." She whispered to herself, taking a drink of her scotch to make it official.

In the midst of her thoughts she didn't notice the young boy approach her. He leaned against the bar to her right, watching her savor her drink intently.

"Hey there, doll." His words made her jump and she almost spilled the two glasses she held. She turned to the boy, wide eyed, and mumbled an apology.

"Oh, I'm sorry sir, you startled me." She took another sip of her scotch to steady her nerves.

"Well I'm sorry Miss, I just couldn't help myself from looking at such a pretty young dame." He slowly trailed his fingers along her right arm, making her tense. "Hey, what's wrong?" he said with faux concern and a knowing smile after seeing her reaction.

"Oh, I'm fine, Hun. Just a bit too much scotch. Gotta be getting back before I fall all over someone." She smiled with a sweet laugh and moved to return to her table.

"Not so fast, sweetie." The boy grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards him, spilling a bit of her drink in the process. "Stay and talk to me for a while."

"Uhmm…" Velvet trailed off, desperately searching the crowd for Spot, but he wasn't at their table.

"Come on, baby. We'll go find a quiet spot and just lay out for a while. Get to know each other." He smiled knowingly at her and began pulling her towards the other end of the bar.

"Stop…" She began to protest, but another strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back. She looked up to see Spot standing beside her, a stern look on his face.

"And where are you two headed off to?" he cocked an eye brow at the young boy, who couldn't have been any older then them, and wrapped his arm tighter around Vevlet's waist. The boy didn't seem to notice.

"We was just goin' to have some fun." He said annoyed, pulling Velvet back towards him. She didn't budge, anchored securely by Spot's strong arm. Spot smirked his famous smirk and looked the boy over, attempting to find some way of identifying him. It was almost obvious he was a newsie. His hands were stained with ink, and his eyes were shifty and dark. Plus, the only boys under twenty who came to these shows were newsies, and this boy couldn't have been any older then Spot at the youthful age of seventeen. The boy looked over Spot as well, not seeming to find any indication of who he was. If he did, he would have shut his trap long before.

Spot's eye caught hold of the boy's left forearm, right below his elbow. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, revealing a tattoo printed in thin black ink. The old key depicted there had an intricate design along the top. It suddenly clicked in his mind that the boy was of the Bronx borough. Buck, their leader, had all his boys tattooed once they got their nicknames, and it always had something to do with said name. It was his way of showing they were his boys and keeping them loyal. Most of them were excited to get them at first, knowing they were part of a group, they were accepted. But then reality hit them that with the tattoo, they would never be able to sell for another borough. If there were disputes in their borough or worse, they were kicked out, the possibility of finding another to take them in with that tattoo was slim to none.

Spot racked his brain in an attempt to think of a newsies name he had heard that would have some relation to the key on the boys arm. One came to mind.

"Well, Lock," Spot smirked again "who says my girl gets to go anywhere with you?" The boys brow furrowed in confusion and he opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly froze with a look of realization and horror. Spot smiled, knowing exactly what the boy was thinking.

"S-s-sorry." Lock stuttered out, averting his gaze and breaking into a cool sweat.

"Now," Spot leaned in close to him, not wanting to be over heard, "Why don't you bum outta here and back to Bronx. I got some guys waitin out back who aint gonna be happy if I have to call them in here bout this." The boy quickly skittered out of the room and out the front door, looking frantically about the entire time. Spot laughed, leading Velvet back to their seat.

* * *

there you have it, folks.

I'm not totally sure where it should go from here...I have a couple rough draftes of future chapters, but I'm not sure what i like the best of all of them. Any suggestions or opinions are welcome.

reviews are always great too.


	8. To Crush the Lust

Spot kept his arm protectively over the back of Velvet's chair for the rest of the show, a silent and deliberate warning to anyone else as bold and or drunk as Locke had been. He hummed gently to the familiar tunes, and tapped his shoe clad heel gently to the beat of the band. His eyes occasionally snuck a peak at Velvet, who sat beside him nonchalantly. He couldn't deny that she looked beautiful in the moment, her hair pulled back slightly and cascading ever so softly over her shoulder. His lips longed to touch that spot, the junction between her neck and shoulder. He knew for a fact that she loved being kissed there; she'd informed the whole of the Brooklyn newsies one night last fall after having a few too many glasses of scotch. It was a rare occurrence for her to drink enough to be THAT drunk, but something about that night..she'd been different. Maybe this had all started then, these feeling in the pit of his stomach.

There he went with that crazy thinking again.

Yet he couldn't stop his arm from sneaking off the back of the chair and onto her revealed shoulders, his hand hugging the top of her right arm protectively and soothingly. He immediately felt her tense, though not in a threatening way. His famous smirk re-appeared without his notice. He leaned closer to her slightly, his mouth coming closer to her ear, though his eyes stayed glued to the woman on stage. "Relax..." he trailed off slowly, sliding his arm lower to wrap around her slim waist. She complied, her shoulders relaxed and she leaned back slightly into his grasp, accepting his gentle touch.

"What happened to no funny business?" she whispered half threateningly and half jokingly, without turning her head. She peaked at him from the corner of her eye slightly before returning her full attention to the show. Spot chuckled almost silently.

"Just making sure none of these boys make Locke's mistake." He squeezed her hip a little harder as he said it, making sure the men at the surrounding tables got the hint. "Most of them are watching you, not the show." Velvet's eyes did a quick scan of the room.

"Well, wouldn't want them to get the wrong idea." She scooted visibly closer to Spot, their thighs now brushing lightly. The hand that wasn't protectively grasping her hip quickly found its place on her skirt clad knee, rubbing slow but deliberate circles there. She took notice, her eyes trained before her, though Spot knew she wasn't paying attention to Medda. He had all her attention. His smirk deepened.

"You do look stunning in this dress." Spot said, the sexual undertones evident in the heaviness of his voice. He rubbed a layer of the blood red fabric between his fingers, feeling the smooth texture on his skin. "I'm sure they all have one thing on their mind. I know I do."

"And what would that be, Mr. Conlon?" Her voice showed indifference, but he noted how her breathing picked up ever so slightly. Oh yes, he definitely had her full attention.

The show ended before anymore dialogue could pass between the two and Spot reluctantly rose from his seat, next helping Velvet from hers. He kept his hand in hers as he quickly pulled her backstage; avoiding the shenanigans that always accompanied the end of Medda's shows. No sooner had they stepped behind the curtain before Spot drew them into a secluded corridor and had Velvet pinned against the wall, trapped between him and the stone wall. He felt her chest heave against his own, and felt her unconsciously push her hips into his slightly. Her mouth was agape, and her eyes bore into his.

"This is what I had in mind." He said huskily, his head leaning towards her neck. He laid his lips gently against her pulse, feeling it beat rapidly against his mouth. He smirked against her skin and bit down gently, taking note of the way she shuddered when he did. He put one hand on her hip, squeezing gently while the other continued downwards, taking hold of her leg and hiking it up and around his waist. He gripped the fabric of her dress in his hand and slowly slid it over her knee until it bunched around her waist, exposing her creamy skin to him. Velvet's arms wrapped instinctually around his neck as his hand roamed her exposed thigh, sliding dangerously close to her bottom. Her skin erupted into goose bumps at his touch, and his confidence was knocked up a notch.

He slid both hands under her and quickly hoisted her off the ground, both her legs wrapping around his waist in an instant. He pushed her back against the wall, and brought his lips from her neck to match her own mouth, kissing feverishly. Her hips pushed against his again, more heavily this time.

Their lips broke away sometime later when the need for air over took them, and they rested their foreheads together as they caught their breaths. He kept a devious smirk on his face, though he couldn't explain the feelings tumbling through him. He'd been this way with many woman before (his reputation was indeed based on hard facts), but never had he gotten this feeling from it. It was more than just lust coursing through his veins at that moment, and it scared him straight shitless.

He had to stop this.

He suddenly felt that his actions were more than just lust induced, as they had been many times before with many other women. His hands didn't entwine in her hair without his conscience consent because he wanted someone to take to his bed. This was something more.

And he needed to crush it under his heel, the way he did the butts of his cigarettes when he'd finished a smoke.

He pulled back and set her on her feet, her breathing had calmed significantly, and her face looked up at him in confusion. She opened her swollen lips to speak, but Medda appeared at the mouth of the hallway before she could.

"Ah, there you two are!" She exclaimed, unaware of the occurrences that had taken place only moments before. Spot jumped slightly, surprised by her sudden apparition. He tore his eyes off of Velvet and resumed his smirk before looking to Medda, poised with a smile a few feet away.

"You did wonderful tonight, Medda." He took her hand in his and kissed it gently, before gliding past her and disappearing into the bustle of backstage. Medda looked after him before turning back to the still slightly shocked Velvet.

What the hell had just happened?


	9. Updated Information

Let me just start by saying that when I originally posted this story, I by all means intended on finishing it.

With that being said, I am fully aware of the length of absence which has been taken from this writing, and I can honestly say that up until a few hours ago I had absolutely no intention of ever returning to it. Somewhere in my home resides an old, battered laptop which holds the remaining chapters of what I originally intended on publishing, imperfections and all, and I am only partially saddened to say that I currently have no means of obtaining these files once again.

But never fear, Brooklyn is here.

While I can not say I am completely proud of the first eight chapters I posted here over a year ago, that does not mean I have given up on them entirely. I may not remember my original intentions, or how Velvet and Spot were meant to be at the end of this work, but I have a fairly good idea and I am not afraid to give it one more whirl.

I will be revising the previously posted chapters and re-posting them with the same titles followed by [edit]. After that, well, I'll hopefully be able to post something sparkling and new.

I apologize for my leave of absence and for the errors that are evident in my currently posted text. I hope to correct them and finally finish what I've started here.


	10. The Manhattan Poker Table edit

The boys huddled shoulder to shoulder around the small table were quiet and intense; eyes were drawn low and focused upon the two boys at opposite ends and the young girl between them, the only ones who still held cards in their hands. The pot between them had grown in the passing hours and as boy after boy lost their week's earnings or dropped out in fear of losing the rest, the three final newsies were left to duke it out for the win.

One was of the famed Manhattan borough and was the biggest gambler around, save for the girl to his left. His hair was inky black, thick beneath his cap, and a cigar hung limply from the corner of his mouth. The other two were of Brooklyn, one being the ever-feared leader of the notorious borough and the other a young woman who, at first glance, could easily be mistaken as his girl, what with the way his idle hand played lost melodies upon her upper thigh and his eyes raked up and down her form. His eyes were of the most piercing blue, skin Irish cream pulled taught over long, lean muscle. He had a keen smirk of a smile which he had perfected to be terrifying and mysterious, sexy and alluring. The young girl, the only female newsie their side of Harlem, was as sly as she was gorgeous. Her brown hair fell wavy and tousled down her back, drawing eyes over her endless curves and milky white skin. Her eyes glinted brightly in the dip light of the room, a swirling mix of blues and greens that would take hours of intense study to define precisely. It was all the boy sitting behind her could do to keep himself from reaching for her, to restrain himself from winding his hands around her hips and laving kisses down her neck and shoulders. His hands fisted tightly in effort.

Far from the game, at a low table on the other side of the room, two boys sat perched on the worn, upholstered couch, mourning the loss of their money at the hands of the three gamblers still engaged at the other end of the room. The younger of the two sat awkwardly on the right, a beer delicately palmed in his hands. The older sat too his left, watching the game from a distance with only mock interest.

"I can't believe I lost." The younger boy whined. His face sagged in sadness as he drew another sip of his drink.

"Look, you're fresh meat! Just got here a week ago! You couldn't have expected to beat Brooklyn when you're fresh off the streets, kid." The older responded, his eyes never leaving the game. The younger boy lifted his eyes in the same direction.

"Which ones Brooklyn?" the younger boy asked timidly, eyes cast down in embarrassment.

"The blue eyes, kid. His named Spot, and don't forget it, unless you wanna be back on the streets faster than you can say 'On the grounds of Brooklyn.'" The elder sighed. They'd been over names and faces more than once, and at the rate that his young apprentice was catching on, he'd be back on the streets in no time. The younger boy nodded and took another sip of his beer.

"The dark hair is Race." The fledging newsies' words came as a half question half statement.

"Now you got it." The older boy shrugged his arm over the younger's shoulders and pointed to the Italian. "He's Manhattan. That's us, too. So you better remember. And the other is Velvet."

"The girl?"

"Yes the girl, dumb ass. What, she look like a guy to you?" The younger shrugged his shoulders and nursed his beer a bit more. "You're gunna get drunk real quick if you keep that up." The elder pulled the beer from the boy's hands and placed it gently at the floor between his feet for later.

"Why do they call her Velvet?"

"Well, supposedly its cause her voice is like velvet, beautiful and soft, but a lot of the boys say its cause red velvet is Spot's favorite." They both looked towards the table again, where Spot's hand continued to lightly draw up and down her thigh. He leaned in close to her, his eyes never leaving his cards, and parted his lips slightly, placing them ever so lightly to the open plane of her collar bone. His lips pressed against her skin gently, distractingly, as he drew an arm to lay across her shoulders and absent mindedly pushed another handful of coins into the pot with the other.

Her lips pulled tighter over her teeth as Spot continued flay kisses farther along the lines of her neck and shoulder. Race paid them no attention, finding the cards fanned in his hands to be of much more interest. Velvet's fingers twitched slightly on her own cards as Spot's arm moved slowly from her shoulder to her waist.

"Pair." Race said unhappily, throwing his cards face down on the table, the bluff he had been keeping up the whole game now evident. Spot smiled his cocky smirk again.

"Straight." He flipped his cards over with his free hand, his eyes meeting Race's.

"Flush." Velvet said bluntly, pushing herself up from the table abruptly. Spot was forced back slightly by her quick haste, and looked up at her in surprise before rising to join her, his smirk returning in seconds.

"Congrats, baby." Spot whispered sultrily in her ear as she straightened up from scooping her earnings off the table, his hand winding back around her hips and his nose brushing against her cheek.

"I'm not your baby." She snapped back in the same hushed tone, teeth gritted together. She shoved the young boy slightly in an attempt to remove his hand from her waist, succeeding only in replacing his smirk with a grimace of anger.

"Who the hell says you aren't?" He snapped angrily, tightening his grip on her hips. She shoved him away harder this time and quickly crossed the floor of the now crowded lodging home, approaching the couch where the two boys still sat talking. She took no time in sliding onto the lap of the older boy, her arms circling around his neck to support her.

"Blink." She cooed, smiling at the surprised newsboy whose cheeks had suddenly taken on a much brighter hue. His hands moved of their own accord, one latching around her waist to further support her, the other finding purchase on the firm muscle of her thigh.

"Velvet." He smiled up at her, pleasantly surprised by her sudden presence. The younger boy stared at the two in awe.

"And who's your friend?" She asked, turning to look at the boy beside them, who quickly closed his gaping jaw and coughed into his closed fist to cover his stare.

"He's fresh meat." Blink responded, never letting his eyes leave her face. "They call him Otter."

"Otter." She repeated and slid one hand to rest on the young boy's thigh. She turned her eyes back to Blink, smiling at him coyly. His cheeks flushed brighter as he met her gaze, giving her a nervous smile of his own.

"You're so cute when you're nervous, Blink." She cooed sweetly. She swiftly moved both hands to his chest and leaned forward slightly, her lips parting delicately. She placed them gently on his jaw, smiling against his soft, freshly shaven skin. Blink's eyes snapped shut, his lips barely holding back a moan. Her lips trailed closer to his own as his eyes snapped open to meet the glare of a deeply angered Brooklyn king.

"Get up." He growled angrily and gripped Velvet's arm tightly. She scowled up at him, but before she could snap back he yanked her to her feet and pulled her towards the door. He took one look back at the stunned Blink and Otter before slamming the door behind him and stomping out into the cold night.


End file.
